


Settle Down

by forthemyoui



Series: "좋지?" "응, 좋아" / Our Hands in Her Pocket [9]
Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-26 23:35:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15673557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forthemyoui/pseuds/forthemyoui
Summary: Sana shows up drunk at Nayeon's door two years after they break up.





	Settle Down

**Author's Note:**

> I like minimal angst I can't handle pain.

Nayeon was woken at some ungodly hour in the same way she had been woken several times before several years ago, by a rapping on her apartment door followed by the incessant ringing of the doorbell. Only this time she had already fallen out of old habits, and her body had nearly unlearned getting up at the first sound of a knock on the door in the wee hours of the morning to prepare clothes and a towel for the head. Nayeon’s every sense had forgotten, so when she squinted, turning on the lights, and looked through the peephole, she stayed confused. That is, until the fuzzy spot that meant hair turned and became a face looking in at her from the other side of the door.

Nayeon had every mind to go back to sleep, but her feet stayed stuck to the floor. Her hand remained on the smooth surface of the wooden door. It was looking for something better to grasp - the smooth surface was unsatisfying, betrayed nothing, was unready to absorb in turn the barrage of emotions that had struck her in the stomach and roiled carelessly in her gut. Without her knowing, her fist struck the door once and made a somewhat decent-sounding thudding noise. Nothing came from the other side. She threw off the door latch in one quick motion and turned the door handle, pulling the door open.

Sana smiled a terrible smile. Her mascara was smeared. Her skirt was half-ripped at the side. She clutched her purse in her hand, but it seemed like she wouldn’t have known if it had gotten snatched or had fallen along the sidewalk.

“Good heavens, you are so beautiful,” Sana said, meaning every word she said.

Nayeon released a breath she had been holding.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“I’m- I can’t remember where I’m staying,” Sana said, looking unsteady on her feet.

“Wha-” Nayeon tried. “Are you on something?”

Then Nayeon heard an ugly sniffle, the sort of uncontrolled inhalation that comes before a sob. Sana’s hand came up to her face as she began to break. Nayeon swallowed the sardonic response on the tip of her tongue and placed a hand on Sana’s cold, clammy upper arm, leading her inside.

Nayeon watched Sana guide herself to Nayeon’s couch and lie face down on it. If it had been anyone else in any other state Nayeon would have gently told them to get their grimy make-up off her couch cushions, but Nayeon just sighed and went to the kitchen to make some… chamomile tea or something. Sana hated the hangover remedies Nayeon took for herself because she hated anything that didn’t taste like candy. Nayeon’s hands moved past the herbal medicine and teas on her shelf and found the nonsense stuff she only took out when guests came over. She dumped a teabag in a mug and poured hot water into it. She observed the sound of clunky heels hitting her carpet coming from the living room as she opened the sugar jar and added three teaspoons of sugar to the tea.

She didn’t speak again as she approached Sana, carefully touching Sana’s wrist and taking Sana’s hand away from her face. She moved the mug of tea towards Sana and Sana looked down into it. She made a move to push the mug away like a cat would, but Nayeon reacted quickly enough to move the mug to safety.

“Drink,” Nayeon said with a croaky, hoarse tone, the result of being woken up at an odd hour of the night.

“I don’t want to,” Sana whined, trying to prevent her voice from showing Nayeon how much she had cried.

“Stop being stubborn,” Nayeon said, but her voice was tired.

“Can’t you just hold me?” Sana asked, looking up with pleading eyes; her pout was irrepressible, and her pupils shook, and the tear stains were terrible on her cheeks.

Nayeon set down the mug. “Sana, what are you doing here?”

“I was told you were getting married,” Sana sobbed, finally reaching for the mug herself when no one was offering it to her just like any idiotic pet animal would and nursing it at her chin. “And I thought I would come here and ask why I didn’t at least get an invitation. I mean I told you, no matter what, you have to at least give me a shot at yelling ‘I object’ when they ask for objections.”

“Sana…” Nayeon began, half-snorting, “why are your information sources so terrible?”

“Hmm?” Sana asked, drinking the tea and shaking her head at it.

“Sana, my sister is getting married,” Nayeon said, leaning back on her own couch. “Who said I was getting married?”

Sana frowned, clearly drunk and too shit-faced to think properly. She stared at her mug.

“I saw an invitation,” Sana said, “for Momo and Mina.”

“Sana, your Korean reading comprehension tends to be shit, so did you at least ask them what it was for?” Nayeon asked.

“No,” Sana blurted, then began another fit of sobs.

Nayeon sighed. “I’m going to get you a change of clothes.”

As Nayeon got up she heard a ‘no, stay’ that faded as she promised to be quick. She threw open two drawers and got out a pyjamas shirt and comfortable gym shorts. Carrying the small bundle in her arms she returned to the living room. Sana lifted her arms and Nayeon paused for a moment.

“I think you should go to the toilet,” Nayeon said softly.

Sana paused, assessing the distance and unfamiliarity that had grown in the time of the past two years. She stood up, still shaky, and took the bundle from Nayeon. She looked around for a while before she remembered where the bathroom was. While she changed Nayeon looked at her phone and then threw it back down onto the couch. There was no one who could share the weight of this situation, really. There was no use.

When Sana returned Nayeon was sitting on the edge of the couch backing, just like Sana used to if she wanted to be kissed. Sana didn’t know what to make of that, even as she sobered up, and tried to make her way around to the couch seats. Nayeon caught her by the shoulders.

“You came here on an impulse?” Nayeon asked, looking straight into Sana’s eyes.

“No,” Sana said quietly, “I came here because I thought you were getting married without me.”

Nayeon looked at her tiredly and incredulously. “You mean you’d be happy if you at least had an invitation too? Or came as my bridesmaid?”

“Well, a little bit, yeah,” Sana said, voice still whiny, “because then I would have the time to make myself look _gorgeous_ , say ‘I object’ and you’d realise we were meant to be and then we could be married.”

“You’re such a stupid idiot,” Nayeon laughed loudly in the empty apartment. “Why would I get married with you?”

Sana cocked her head to the side, placing her head on Nayeon’s shoulder. Their faces were in awfully close proximity. Nayeon hoped Sana wouldn’t move in closer. She hadn’t planned what she might do if Sana did anything like that - but she should have, in advance, because Sana, if nothing else, was an unpredictable creature.

“Because no matter where I’ve gone, and somehow I felt that no matter where you go, this is something that doesn’t change,” Sana said sincerely, eyes wide as usual, “you don’t know me from these two years and I don’t know you from these two years, but you know me and I know you. And we can catch up.”

Nayeon looked at Sana seemingly nonchalantly, seemingly ambivalently. “Why do you have to be drunk every time you show up here?”

“I’m really stupid,” Sana said, pursing her lips. “But I don’t get drunk anymore. I just wanted to drown my sorrows, and then I thought this might give me a reason to show up at your door.”

“I’m glad you didn’t get drunk and crash my non-existent wedding,” Nayeon joked, rolling her eyes. “That would have been shit.”

“Yeah,” Sana agreed. “You might not say yes to me then.”

Sana’s voice had become softer, lower, and Nayeon could see Sana staring at her lips. Nayeon didn’t want to give in that easily, no matter how much Sana, just Sana being here, tugged at her chest. She used the back of her hand to clean off the sweat dripping down the side of Sana’s face.

“Why don’t you ask me?” Nayeon asked in a whisper.

There was a pause. Sana wasn’t really ever daft, always knew her cues. But she looked up at Nayeon with some amount of surprise.

“Come on, I’m not easy,” Nayeon blinked at her, expression still haughty while it could be; Nayeon had a face that people sometimes wanted to throw a punch at, but Sana never felt like anything like that, because she always knew how to make that face dissolve into something more thoughtful, something softer to the touch.

“Will you let me be your date to your sister’s wedding?” Sana asked, cupping Nayeon’s cheek.

Nayeon smiled. “Depends. When’s your flight?”

“A day after the wedding.”

“Cancel it. Dates go to after-parties too. Don't make me look bad.”

“Okay,” Sana replied easily.

Nayeon pulled Sana closer by the fabric of her black tube top. “Now ask me something else.”

“Uh,” Sana said, nervous, looking gently into Nayeon’s eyes. “Plan to marry me someday?”

“Apparently,” Nayeon responded with an eyebrow raise, “yes.”

Nayeon said it as if she had just discovered that within herself a few minutes ago, like she had trudged down to the file cabinets in the basement of her heart and booted up the old computer at the front desk and made some entries, only to come up with the shitty, or perhaps not so shitty result that wouldn’t quite let itself be altered no matter how much Nayeon tried - the result that said Nayeon kind of really wished Sana would come back, because Nayeon’s Japanese was shit in all areas and at all levels and navigating her way back to Sana would be a disaster movie in the making.

“I want a dog,” Nayeon said.

“Sure, fine,” Sana said. “Dogs. Lots of dogs. A pig.”

“I didn’t say a pig.”

“I want a pig.”

“Are you, uh,” Nayeon began, “are you still working at the same place?”

“At my dad’s friend’s place?” Sana asked. “I quit. Getting hit on by too many men.”

“Are you jobless?”

“I’ll find a Japanese firm here,” Sana said, nuzzling her face into Nayeon’s neck.

Nayeon tipped herself back so she fell onto the couch, taking Sana with her, who gladly clambered over the couch backing. Nayeon turned on the television for the sake of having something drone on in the background as she pulled Sana up to her face so she could kiss her. There was nothing else her heart would soar like this for, no more familiar feeling than Sana’s lips.

“Stop crying,” Nayeon said half teasingly, but Sana could feel every bit of warmth in her words.

“I’ve missed you so much.”

“I know. Me too.”

“You’re getting better at talking about your feelings,” Sana noted.

“I mean, it’s you,” Nayeon said, placing Sana’s head in the crook of her own neck and stroking Sana’s hair, “I’d rather leave nothing unsaid.”

Nayeon felt every fibre of her being agree with those words, felt warm breath on her skin and got the feeling that Sana might be running a fever soon, and listened to the television as Sana fell asleep, drunk as hell and lovely as ever in her arms, like it was just some nights ago that they were together.

**Author's Note:**

> Twitter - @forthemyoui


End file.
